


Too Surreal

by Desbelleschoses



Series: Roomates from Hell [6]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-19
Updated: 2017-11-19
Packaged: 2019-02-04 03:05:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12761811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Desbelleschoses/pseuds/Desbelleschoses
Summary: Deidara, Sasori, and Konan are studying for a test at the apartment. Hidan can't find his textbook and tries to stall in any way he can. College AU.





	Too Surreal

Konan sat with her feet tucked beneath her, leaning to the side in the single armchair that accompanied the couch in Deidara’s apartment. Her open laptop sat on her thighs, on top of one of the decorative pillows. Her tongue toyed with her lip piercing as she read the screen, letting the metal click against her teeth even though she knew better. “Okay,” she hummed, “explain ‘surrealism’ and track its progression through the West, paying special attention to the artists mentioned in class.”

Deidara lay sprawled across the couch, his head resting on the other throw pillow. He held his notebook up over his face, squinting as he tried to decipher his own handwriting. His feet rested in Sasori’s lap, who was using the coffee table as a footrest. His tablet was in his left hand, and he scrolled with his right.

“Obviously, we’ll need to mention Margrite,” Sasori mused, “along with Dali.”

“Can’t forget Breton,” Deidara added, raising a finger. “Remember: ‘Long live the social revolution, and it alone!’ Hn.”

“And I’m sure we’ll need to differentiate between surrealism and Dadaism.” The ginger made several taps on his small screen, taking notes.

“That’ll be one of the essays,” Konan agreed, scrolling further down the page.

“Hey, Princess,” Hidan’s voice came from his bedroom. He opened the door and poked his head out. “I can’t fucking find my damned _Black Magic_ textbook.”

“So?” Deidara arched an eyebrow without looking at him.

“Well, asshole, I need to study.” He stepped into the living room, clad only in his boxers. Konan placed her elbow on the armrest and let her forehead fall into her palm. Sasori didn’t bother looking up from his tablet.

“Go put some fucking pants on!” Deidara shouted, whipping the throw pillow at him. “House rules, hn! Goddamnit.”

“Fuck, I didn’t know you had people over. Geez.” Hidan disappeared for a moment before returning, a pair of sweats pulled up around his hips. “Happy?” he spat, and Deidara flipped him off. “‘Sup, Red?” he greeted Sasori with a nod. His eyes lingered for a minute on Konan, who had turned back to her laptop. “Hey, ain’t you the hottie from that bake sale?”

Konan’s lips drew into a thin line. “My _name_ is Konan.”

Ignoring her standoffish reaction, Hidan approached her. “Mine’s Hidan.” He rested his arms on the back of her chair and leaned forward, putting his face near hers. “So, what’s your deal?”

“My _deal_ ,” Konan drawled as she typed on her keyboard, “is that I am engaged, you are too far into my personal space, and, if you don’t move in the next five seconds, I will punch you in the throat.”

Hidan howled, slapping his hand on the back of the chair. “Hot damn! I like you, babe. Damn shame your guy put a ring on it.”

“The ring has nothing to do with my answer, you sexist ignoramus.”

“Why haven’t you brought this firecracker around before, Princess?” Hidan smirked at her appreciatively.

Deidara turned his head to look at his roommate. “Take a wild guess.”

Hidan held up his hands in a gesture of innocence. “Hey, I’m all look but no touch. I’m in a committed relationship, myself, ya know.”

“You and the bookie?” Sasori couldn’t stop himself from asking. Hidan nodded. “That’s… surprising.”

“‘Committed’ isn’t the right word,” Deidara corrected. “Think of it more as they’re both batshit enough to kill the other out of jealousy. You know, real healthy shit, hn.”

“Yeah, fuck you.” Hidan turned his back on his roommate. “Seriously, has anyone seen my fucking textbook?” He got down on his hands and knees to look under the couch.

Ignoring him, Konan continued looking over their study guide. “Our second essay is going to be a critique of our choosing on a painting that will be shown on the day of the test. It’ll probably be one we haven’t talked about; he likes to throw curveballs like that.”

“Well, we all know what to do for that one, so we might as well skip it, hn?” Deidara suggested.

“Right. Then we’ll have identification. Let’s see here… who painted this and what is it titled?” Konan turned her laptop around to show a painting of a tobacco pipe against a yellow background; across the bottom was written _ceci n’est pas une pipe_.

“That’s _The Treachery of Images_ , yeah?” Hidan spoke as he sat up. All three art students were staring at him. “What? Don’t look at me like I’m some kind of unrefined douchebag. I know art.”

Konan clicked the arrow key, bringing up a screenshot of a black-and-white film. In it, there was a woman’s face, her eye being held open by a male hand. Hidan bounced once. “Ooh! That’s _Un Chien Andalou_ ! That’s some fucked-up shit right there. Dali’s my _man_. Like, the hand with the ants… who comes up with this shit?!”

Sasori and Deidara made eye contact. Konan stared at Hidan, her mouth open slightly. “How do you know that?” Sasori asked, looking back to Hidan.

Hidan shrugged. “I had an ex who liked museums. It didn’t last, but I really dug that French painting. And, I mean, have you _met_ me? That movie’s right up my alley. I mean, the razor blade?”

“What’s your major, again?” Konan inquired.

“Religious studies.”

“Weren’t you looking for your textbook, hn?” Deidara reminded him.

“Oh, yeah. Dammit.” Hidan pushed himself to his feet. “Where the fuck could I have left it?” He wandered off down the hall, muttering to himself.

“That was strange,” Konan sighed, shaking her head.

“Try living with him,” Deidara quipped. “Now, come on. Let’s keep going.”

With a click, the next image came up on the screen. “Oh, that’s easy,” Sasori waved his hand. “That’s _Woman With Her Throat Cut_ .” Another image. “ _The Red Tower_.”

“I don’t think we need to worry about these, hn,” Deidara observed, shrugging his shoulders.  

“You’re right,” Konan agreed as she took back her laptop. “Do you guys want to go over the powerpoints, or-”

“Yo, hot stuff,” Hidan cut her off, earning a deathly glare as he emerged from the hallway, phone to his ear. “What’d’ya take on your pizza? Thelma and Louise both like plain.”

“He remembers my pizza order?” Sasori asked Deidara at the same time that Konan responded, “Pepperoni, and don’t call me that.”

“Whatever, babe.” Hidan shrugged and walked back down the hall.

“What the hell is his deal?” Konan asked, startling both her classmates with her swear and the harshness of her tone.

“He’s stalling,” Deidara informed her. “Watch this, hn.” He waved his hand to keep her quiet before shouting. “Hidan! You find your book yet?”

“Mother _fucker!”_ Hidan exclaimed from the kitchen.

“This is ridiculous. We’re not getting anything done.” Konan set her laptop on the coffee table and stood, stretching her arms above her head. Her shirt lifted to expose the piercings around her navel. “Let’s find the book so we can get back to work.”

Reluctantly, Deidara followed her lead, as did Sasori. The trio searched the living room, looking for a textbook that none of them had seen before. Konan stood on her toes so that she could run her fingers over the top of the bookcase; Deidara peeled off all the cushions, and Sasori checked the piles of clothes in the laundry room.

Hidan began to tear apart his bedroom as the search progressed through the apartment. Konan stood in wordless silence after opening the freezer, trying to process why there was a textbook in the ice box. She took it out and brushed off the hardback cover, scanning the words on the front. When she returned to the living room, she raised the volume of her voice slightly, asking, “Is there any particular reason that you used the freezer to store your book?”

Hidan perked up and ran out of his room. “You’re the best, hot stuff!” he exclaimed, taking the book from her hand. “I never would have looked there! You fucking rock.”

“It was in the freezer?” Sasori asked, his voice heavy with defeat.

“I don’t multitask very well,” Hidan admitted.

Deidara was about to ask what it was that he was trying to do, but he thought better of it. Some things were better left unsaid. “Right. Let’s get back to it, then. I can’t afford to fail this test, hn.”

Konan, Deidara, and Sasori returned to their places and picked up their materials. Hidan plopped down on the floor beside the coffee table and opened up his textbook, joining in on the study session despite not being enrolled in the same class. As long as he stayed quiet, Deidara didn’t see any harm in letting him sit there.

“Who said ‘There is only one difference between a madman and me. I am not mad’?” Konan asked.

“Dali,” Deidara answered. “That’s easy enough to remember.”

“Okay. Who coined the term ‘surrealism?’”

“Apollinaire,” Sasori responded. “1917, in a letter to Dermee.”

“How can you remember this shit?” Hidan asked, looking up from his book.

“We’ve been studying for almost a week,” Sasori informed him. “Our professor doesn’t play around. This is one of those classes that weeds people out of the program.”

“You’d think it’d be, ya know, the fucking art that did that.”

“I wish, hn,” Deidara scoffed.

“Which psychoanalytic theory did surrealists use to form their opinions on dreams?”

“Freud.” Deidara didn’t hesitate with his answer.

“And what does idiosyncrasy mean?”

“Oh, that means the different ways people react to things,” Hidan grinned, proud that he knew that answer. He didn’t mention that he’d learned it from his therapist. “Like, fuckin’ memory associations and shit like that.”

“Eloquently put.” Konan did her best to hide her amusement and surprise that he knew the term.

“Just because I’m crass doesn’t mean I’m stupid,” Hidan countered, shrugging. She couldn’t help but agree with him.

The doorbell rang. “Pizza!” Hidan exclaimed. “Yo, Princess, you got this, right?”

Deidara looked at him as though he had two heads. “Are you fucking kidding me? You ordered it! Besides, you’re the one with the rich boyfriend!”

Hidan snorted. “Please, like he gives me jack shit.” He held out his hand, grinning when Deidara slapped a twenty onto his palm. “Thanks, Sunshine.”

Deidara grumbled something too low for the others to hear.

Hidan opened the front door and traded the money for their pizza, chatting cordially with the delivery boy. When he shut the door, Deidara asked, “You know him?”

“Nah, but you _never_ hate on the pizza guy,” Hidan said as though it were essential life advice. He set the pizzas down, passing one to Sasori and Deidara while he set the other between himself and Konan. “So, speaking of Freud, you guys, I had the weirdest fuckin’ dream last night.”

“Hidan,” Deidara warned.

“No, but really. I wasn’t high or jack shit. Okay, so I’m out in the middle of this huge fuckin’ forest, buck-ass naked. Then this _huge_ motherfuckin’ turtle crawls out of this lake, okay? It looks me dead in the eye, and it fuckin’ talks to me. I don’t have a damned clue what it said, because I don’t speak big-ass turtle, but it was like he was telling me the secret to the fuckin’ universe. Scares the shit out of me. So I’m running, ass to the wind, through this forest, trying to get as far away from space turtle as I can. And then, I run right off this cliff and land in a lake. I start swimming up, trying not to drown. Then, and I swear to Jashin, _I’m_ the fucking turtle, and I see me standing in the woods. Now tell me what the fuck all _that_ was about.”

Sasori blinked several times, trying to process what he’d just been told. “I think I know what it means.”

“Yeah?” Hidan leaned in.

“You _really_ need to lay off the drugs.”

“You’re just jealous.”


End file.
